


The Skylark Song

by darylvdixon



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Death, M/M, No Magic AU, Slow Burn, Soldier Percy, Tragedy, War, War time AU, nurse newt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9994145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darylvdixon/pseuds/darylvdixon
Summary: Percival is injured during the war and is sent to a hospital to recover where he meets Newt, his new nurse. During his stay at the hospital he and Newt grow close and promise to keep in touch. But when Percival stops writing to Newt he has to make the decision to forget about Percival, sure he'd been killed in action and that he'd never know.





	1. Chapter 1

It was quiet, eerily quiet, the way it always was in the early morning. Percival found it hard to sleep, as did many of the other soldiers. It seemed sleep came less and less easy to you the more horrors you see and in the war you get to see a lot of horrors. From Percivals sitting position in the muddy trenches he could see the gloomy grey sky overhead, the sun wasn’t out but from the look of the ugly clouds they wouldn’t be seeing the sun today. Other soldiers were awake around him but no one spoke. Some read letters from loved ones, some read books. Some whistled a tune or hummed a song but many, like Percival, just sat in quiet. Percival’s too small boots were buried in the thick wet mud, the damp wet flowing over the top of his boots and down to his feet making it hard for him to get comfortable. 

He was cold and he was hungry but most of all he was lonely. Percival didn’t have any family to write to him, no loved ones to keep pictures of. Being alone had never bothered him before, but now in the war it seemed ten times more suffocating. If something happened to him who would be told? Who would mourn? Who would come to his funeral? That is if there was a body to be found and buried. He shouldn’t be selfish, he knows that, but everyone wants someone to mourn for them when they die, to miss them and lay flowers on their grave, to know that they were loved at least by one person. But he didn't have that one person. No one sent letters to Percival Graves, no one was wishing for him to come home to them, and that thought was sometimes harder than the fighting and the thought of dying all together.

Percival was pulled from his trance by quick footsteps splashing in the mud, “The Enemy has been spotted!” The young spotter boy hissed at them all urgently, “Over the embankment! They’re ready to attack!” 

Everyone jumped into action, they grabbed their guns, grabbed their ammo and woke the few sleeping soldiers up. Their group wasn’t a big one, sixty people, if that. They had started with near two hundred but slowly they had dwindled down to nearly nothing and Percival had watched it happened. Grabbing his gun he followed the troops to the end of the trench, facing North where the spotter said he’d seen the enemy waiting.

“Must of been at least hundred of ‘em, maybe more.” The young lad announced as he joined the group, his own gun now drawn and ready in his grasp, “Don’t s’pose we stand a chance but we gots to fight ‘em.”

Percival sighed, he knew the young boy was right. They probably didn’t stand a chance but they couldn’t just play sitting ducks waiting from them to attack from above. If they came to the trench and shot down at them they’d be as good as dead. Maybe they would be now also. Everyone loaded, took off the safety and then climbed up over the mud, the enemy indeed was waiting. Shots began almost instantly, it was hard to tell who started the firing but now both sides were charging, guns blazing with loud cries. Whether they were war cries or cries of dying Percival couldn’t tell, he didn’t want to look behind him to see his fallen comrades but he also didn’t want to see the fallen enemy, they were still people too after all.

He shot whenever a black uniform came close to him, injuring many, killing a few. He tripped in the mud more times than he’d like to admit, one time he nearly didn’t make it back up in time and was almost trampled, but he was pulled to his feet by his friend, Jones. Everyone was shouting, people were falling and blood was flying. Percival was damp with red, some from him, most from the people around him. Blood mixed with mud causing the ground to turn into one large sinking pit. They fought while they sank, now covered head to toe in mud and blood it was hard to tell who was friend and who was foe. Stumbling over a body Percival looked down to see the spotter boy, laying with eyes wide, his chest completely still. He felt a pang in his heart, he was only fifteen, here illegally but no one seemed to care, they sent him out to fight and they sent him out to die. 

All around him people fell, enemy and friends lay crying out for help as they bled into the mud. People were shot, people were trampled and everyone struggled to stop themselves from sinking and drowning in the murky mud. Percival was disorientated, which way was home? Who was he fighting? Was there even any point? They were out numbered ten to one. He couldn’t even tell up from down and then it hit him. It was like his arm had been ripped from his body, he fell back, splashing in the mud as he landed. The white hot pain shot through his body, his shoulder throbbed and red spots appeared in his vision. He couldn’t move his arm, was it even still attached to him? He didn’t dare to look. He tried to get up, tried to crawl out of the mud but he didn’t stand a chance. One kick to the head, two and things started to go black. He fought to stay conscious but he was tired of fighting now, he slipped away into the blackness, the cries of pain and death dulling around him as he fell unconscious.

 

~~~~

 

“Just place that over there sweetie.” The nice blonde haired women, Queenie, instructs the newbie with a large smile. The ginger haired, bright eyed male placed the box of medicine on the indicated table and opened it up, starting to pull bottles out and place them on the shelves above him. “How are you liking it here?” Queenie asked him.

Newt stacked the bottles neatly, he was a bit of a neat freak in all honesty and liked to have things in order, “It’s nice,” he replies honestly, “I wasn’t sure how I’d like it…I’ve never been very good with people but everyone here is really great and I’m actually enjoying myself. It’s nice to be of some help.” The boy smiles over at the woman.

Queenie grins back at him and comes to stand beside him with a second box, also opening it up and handing bottles over to him for him to place on the shelf. The small hospital he’d come to help out in hadn’t been set up for long. It was make-shift really, a small barn like building having been converted into separate medical rooms and a few wards. So far they only had three patients and honestly there wasn’t much room for many more. They were one of the smaller hospitals where people came mostly just to recuperate from minor injuries. They were still in the midst of setting most of the medical equipment out. They hadn’t had much time to do so what with looking after the patients as there was only four nurses and three doctors there.

“How come you didn’t want to join the fighting? If you don’t mind me asking.” Queenie smiles at him kindly. She liked to smile a lot, it suited her well. Her light blonde hair framed her pale face beautifully and her cheeks seemed to have a constant light flush to them which only helped to make her eyes shine. She really was quite outstanding.

“I don’t mind,” Newt returns the smile. He’s never smiled as much as he has around her, it’s contagious it would seem, “I applied,” he tells her as he breaks down the box and folds it away to be stored for later, “My eyesight isn’t very good so I wasn’t allowed in. I should wear glasses really but…Well, I don’t really like them,” he shrugs his shoulders as he takes Queenie’s box and begins to flatten that one down too, “I decided I still wanted to help some how and applied to be a nurse here. I’ve had experience in the small animal shelter where I live, looking after poorly animals. I think that helped me land the position.”

“Oh, well I’m glad to have you here!” Queenie hops up onto the table and pats the space beside her for him to sit too, which he gladly does, “We wasn’t expecting to have a man nurse around, let alone a cute British one.” Queenie winks and nudges his shoulder with hers. She was a flirt and he’d learned that much on his very first day here. “My hubbies off fighting,” she explains with a forlorn smile, “I’m real proud of him.”

“You should be,” Newt agrees with a nod, “Fighting for your country is a great honour. My brothers fighting. They’re brave men, these soldiers… I’m sure your husbands doing just great.” Newt reassures her.

Queenie nods her head and reaches for his hand, “I’m sure your brothers doing just great as well.” She replies with one of her large winning smiles.

 

~~~~

 

Percival dreamt he was on a boat far at sea. Just him and the waves. He was content, he was happy and he was perfectly safe. The sky was baby blue and there wasn’t a cloud in sight, the sun beat down on his bare chest as he lay on the deck, smiling to himself as he fell in and out of peaceful sleep, the waves lulling him into tranquility.

Percival didn’t wake up at sea like he had hoped he would. The rocking was there but it wasn’t from the waves but instead it was from the heavy tires of the truck bumping over the gravelly track road. It was dark in the truck but Percival could see sun light leaking in through the gaps in the trucks tarpaulin roofing. He tried to move but the pain that shot through his body soon haltered him, a hiss of discomfort leaving his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, attempting and failing to block out the pain.

“Here have some water.” Percival opens his eyes at the sound of the deep voice, straining his eyes to see the figure knelt beside him offering out the canteen of water. The soldier helps him drink down the water, most of it splashing over his dirty face and clothes, tinging the taste of water with that of dirt but he was too thirsty to care.

Once he’d drank his fill he laid his head back on the truck floor, feeling worn out even from that minor task. He lets out a sigh, lifting his right arm to rub a hand over his face and up into his hair, letting out a groan at the discomfort this movement brought to his opposite arm.

“Try not to move around soldier, you’ve been injured.” The man with the canteen explained to him. Percival almost rolled his eyes but thought with his luck recently that would probably also cause him pain. He could tell he’d been injured, it was an arm wound not a head wound he hadn’t turned stupid. “We’re taking you to a temporary medical centre to be properly assessed and then you will be transferred for proper treatment.” 

Percival nodded at the explanation but didn’t really take it in. He didn’t care what was going to happen as long as it was going to stop the burning pain flowing down his left arm and up through his neck. He managed to crane his head round and look at his surroundings, he was one of many laying on the floor of the truck. All looked injured and he couldn’t be sure but some even looked to be almost dead. There were three soldiers sat up, clearly been sent to watch over them all as they were being transferred.

“What happened?” Percival croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper, he coughed twice in the hopes of regaining some of his vocals.

“You were shot in the shoulder during the fight,” The soldier explains, “You were pulled out of the mud some time after the battle when we were searching for bodies. You’re lucky, we thought you dead at first sight, nearly sent you off in the wrong truck.” The soldier laughs, Percival doesn’t.

“What about my comrades? I know…I saw the spotter boy…He was dead. I didn’t…I didn’t even know his name.” Percival frowns at the memory. The boy, so young, laying sinking in the mud, his eyes scared and staring up but seeing nothing. “I didn’t even know his name.” he repeats, ashamed of himself for never trying to befriend the boy.

The soldier gives him a sympathetic smile and reaches down to squeeze his shoulder, “We managed to pull him out,” he explains, like that would make Percival feel any better about his death, “A lot of the men in your band were killed in action. Their bodies are being retrieved and handled properly. There were few survivors all of who are being transferred here.”

Percival looks around again, trying to see who was laying around him but everyone was so caked in dirt it was hard to make out the faces. The strain the position put on his shoulder caused him to retire to his original position before he could recognise anyone.

“What about Jones? Marcus Jones?” Percival asks. Jones was one of the men who he had grown closest too. Jones was kind, he’d always make sure everyone was okay before he sorted out himself. He had a genuinely kind heart and didn’t deserve all the shit this war had put him through. He’d watched his sons get blown to pieces not two months earlier. Percival had comforted him as he cried that night.

The soldier shook his head, “Shot in the head. Died instantly.” Percival felt his heart sink. The only light he could find was that he’d died painlessly and would now be reunited with his sons once more. Percival would miss him, he was a good friend and he’d be sure to send a letter to his widow if ever he got the chance, just to say how much he’d helped him cope and offer his condolences, not that he thought it would help her at all.

“You should sleep soldier, we have another couple hours drive till we reach the medical centre and you could use the rest.” The soldier tells him, standing up in the rocking truck and walking off to check on the other wounded men.

Percival hadn’t realised how tired he was. Months of sleepless nights had finally caught up with him. He was well aware of the dark bags gathering under his eyes and of how bloodshot his eyes had become. Percival settled back, sure sleep wouldn’t come to him but he was wrong. The minute his eyes fell shut he felt them grow heavy, dragging down into a deep slumber that was much needed.

 

~~~~

 

The next day at the hospital was a busy one. Queenie’s sister Tina, who was also one of the doctors at the hospital, had received a telegram late at night informing them that they were going to be joined by four new patients within the next few days.

Newt and Queenie had been sent into the second ward to start setting up the beds, they hadn’t expected to need them so soon so everything had to be done quickly.

“Should we put this one over here?” Newt asks as he wheels one of the four beds to the far corner, “I think we should keep them as far from each other as possible. Just in case one of them gets ill, it’s less likely to catch if they’re not all cramped in.” Newt stops the bed with enough room to put a small bedside table and a chair between the bed and wall.

“Yes, I think that would be best,” Queenie agrees as she sets out a bed at the opposite corner, “I hope none of these soldiers are too badly injured,” Queenie sighs, “I don’t know what I’d ever do if Jacob turned up here one day. I couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to find out he’d been hurt.”

Newt offers her a kind smile as he sets the sheets out on the chair and starts making the bed ready for its new patient, “I’m sure nothings going to happen to Jacob, Queenie.” Newt reassures her. Of course he didn’t know that for sure but from what she’d told him yesterday Jacob was in one of the largest encampments around, there was very little chance of him being severely injured.

“I know,” Queenie sighs as she throws the sheet over the bed and tucks it in at the sides, “But it still crosses your mind, doesn’t it? Do you ever think about your brother?”

Newt knows what she really wants to ask. Do you think about what would happen if your brother got injured or killed? “Everyday,” Newt replies honestly, “Any time I get the chance I’m thinking about him. He's the only family I have, I couldn’t bare something happening to him. But that’s out of my control. All I can do is hope for the best and pray that he comes back safe.”

“What about your parents?” Queenie asks, a frown setting on her face which looked rather out of place on her, “Don’t you have any other family?”

Newt shook his head, “My parents got ill a couple years back. They passed, since then it’s just been me a Thes’“ He explains with a soft smile. It still hurt to think of his parents deaths even though five years had passed. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him too.”

“You won’t.” Queenie sounds sure but Newt knows no one is certain to come back from this war, “What about a girlfriend?” Queenie quickly changes the subject which Newt is more than glad for, “Don’t you have a lover back home you gotta write to?”

Newt lets out a soft laugh, “No,” he admits, “I’ve never been one for relationships. People find me too…weird. Always hanging round with animals. I don’t have many friends.” he explains.

Queenie gives him a sympathetic smile, he hates it, “Well you got me now, and Tina. And I just know Jacob would adore you.” She walks to him and places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “ We’re your friends, and we don’t think you're weird.”

Newt offers her a small smile, “Thanks Queenie.” he replies quietly and then gets back to making the beds.

It didn’t take them long. The room was ready for its new occupants by that evening and Newt and Queenie could retire to their dinner after they checked on the few patients they had. The soldiers already in their care would soon be sent back to the war he knew that. It was sad to think they had been injured, sent away to get better just so that they could go fight again and probably get injured some more. It was a strange world they lived in. One where men could kill other men and feel no remorse for it. He was quite happy he hadn't been accepted into the war. He wasn’t sure he could kill someone and live with himself afterwards.


	2. Chapter 2

Newt watched as the bottle green war truck pulled into the driveway of the hospital, halting just by the doors where he, Queenie and a third nurse, Amelia were stood waiting to accept their newest patients. Two burly men exited the trucks driving quarters, heading over to greet them. They were informed that all four of their new patients weren’t seriously injured, which Newt was extremely relieved about, he wasn’t sure he could deal with serious life threatening injuries.

Another three men were busying themselves getting the soldiers off of the truck and onto the trolleys waiting for them. All but one was unconscious. Newt gave the conscious solider a somber smile, one which he returned, and then turned his attention to the remaining unconscious soldiers. All of them were in need of a good cleaning before they could be assessed properly he knew that. 

Once the two drivers had finished discussing what they knew Newt followed the two women nurses into the hospital and helped push the trolleys containing the injured into the newest ward.

“Right, we need to get them cleaned up before they get assessed,” Queenie starts directing the orders, “Newt, if you could fill a couple buckets with warm water please. We’ll just have to give them a quick clean for now, can’t risk injuring them further until we know what’s wrong. Amelia if you could get some clean cloths from the cupboard in the other room. We’ll need some clean clothes too, we’ll find them later.”

Queenie was shaking her head, muttering to herself about how awful the conditions must be as she started carefully taking the conscious mans shirt off ready to wash him down. Newt did as asked, heading to the kitchen area in search of clean buckets. He found four and filled them with semi-warm water and soap. It was hard to get hot water anywhere at the moment so it would have to do. He met up with Amelia who dumped a couple cloths into each bucket and then helped him carry them back to the ward where Queenie had finished removing most of the soldiers clothes.

“Right, they all need a quick clean, the sooner we can do this the sooner they can be treated properly.” The blonde woman nods, accepting a bucket from Newt and heading over the the conscious man, who’s name was James.

Newt picked the man nearest to him, a blonde man with sharp features. He took a cloth and started with washing his face. Under the dirt the man had a pale complexion, a few scratches and bruises across his face but so far nothing serious. It wasn’t until he began to wash his lower abdomen when he found the wound. A single gunshot hole into his side, it was still bleeding slightly and Newt could tell a bandage had not long been removed, probably by Queenie.

He cleaned the man quickly, it wasn’t perfect but it was good enough for his assessment, then they would give them all proper baths before setting them into their new beds and letting them rest, hopefully the other men would be awake by then, it’d make the bathing a lot easier.

Tina entered the room with her fellow doctors as they were just finishing off. The once clear water was now thick with black making Newt scrunch his face up at the sight, not to mention the awful smell.

Newt busied himself emptying the buckets outside and then cleaning them out in the sink, disposing of the used clothes while he waited for the doctors to look over the soldiers. He knew they had already been to a hospital on their way here so any bullets still inside would have been removed their and the wounds would have been cleaned and wrapped.

After almost an hour or waiting Newt is finally called back by Queenie who tells him that the soldiers could now be bathed properly and placed into their beds.

“Tina says there’s nothing too bad,” Queenie tells him as they fill up the tin bath in the corner with lukewarm water, “Two bullet wounds in the sides, one in a calf and another in a shoulder. All should be okay with careful looking after, the right medicine and time.”

Newt smiles over at her, “That’s a relief,” He sighs as he tests the waters warmth before lowering the first soldier into the tub, he was still unconscious, “They should all be okay then. And hopefully not in too much pain.”

It took Newt and Queenie near two hours to finish bathing all four patients, what with having to re-fill the tub after each man and making sure each one was dressed in clean clothes, bandaged accordingly and comfy in bed.

“Queenie, Newt,” Tina’s voice drifts across the ward as they are helping the last soldier into bed, the blonde man who Newt and first washed who now informed them his name was George. “Queenie, I’ve given you two of the new patients,” her sister informs her, “George and James. I’ve given Amelia Marko to care for and Newt you have been assigned to Percival.”

“Wait, I have my own patient?” Newt asks. So far he’d only been shadowing the other nurses and hadn’t had the responsibility of having his own patient yet.

Tina nods his head and gives him a kind smile, “Yes Newt,” She tells him, “I feel you’re ready and Queenie will always be around to offer any help and support. Percival has a shoulder wound that doesn’t look too bad. It’ll take simple care and I have full confidence that you can do this.”

Newt is nervous having so much sudden responsibility but accepts the job with a large smile. He believed he could do it, it sounds like a nice easy first assignment and he was excited to meet Percival and start caring for him. But sadly Percival was still unconscious so Newt would have to wait a while longer to finally meet his new patient.

 

~~~~

 

When Percival finally comes around it’s to the sight of darkness surrounding him. For a panicked moment he thought himself dead but as soon as that thought entered his head he banished it with a scoff. Of course he wasn’t dead, he wouldn’t wake up if he was, right? Percival blinks a couple times and finally the dark room starts coming into focus. He’s laid in a bed, a rather comfy bed at that. But he supposed after sleeping in the mud for so long a bed of nails would feel comfy to him. He looked around and noticed other occupied beds around him. He was pleased that the pain in his arm had almost disappeared, now just a dull throbbing in the back of his mind.

He wondered where he was. Clearly a hospital he realised but he wasn’t sure where. The faces on the pillows around him he recognised, they had been in his band and he was thankful to see them alive and somewhat well. They were all sleeping. He scanned the room for any way to tell the time but had no luck. He could guess late at night, maybe early morning even.

He notices movement and his eyes trail to follow it. A man is making his way over to him, humming along to himself as he carries a jug of water in one hand and an empty glass in his other. He startles, obviously not expecting to seem him awake. He didn’t recognise the man but guessed he must be one of the workers here.

“Hello,” The man smiled. He came closer and placed the glass on the small table by his bed, pouring water into it. Now the man had moved into the moonlight he could make out the reddish glow from his hair and the freckles lining his face.

He placed down the jug and carried the glass over to Percival, placing a hand on the back of his head and helping him drink. Percival drank the whole glass, he hadn’t realised how thirsty he was. After another glass his thirst was finally quenched and he laid back, humming at the slight pain in his shoulder from his movements.

“My name is Newt, I’m going to be looking after you while you’re here.” The man, Newt, informs him as he sits in the wooden chair beside his bed, it didn’t look like a comfortable chair Percival noted, hard and knobbly. “How are you feeling?”

Newt reached forward placing the back of his hand against Percivals forehead to check for a temperature, once certain there wasn’t one he sat back and allowed Percival to speak.

“I’m feeling well, considering.” Percival spoke quietly, partly not wanting to wake anyone up and partly because his voice couldn’t seem to go any louder at the moment. “Is my arm okay?”

Newt nods quickly, “Oh yes, it’s going to be just fine. I need to dress it everyday and I have a couple things you’ll need to take to aid the healing, but mostly with time it will be okay. You may have to engage in some arm exercises once you get a little better, just to get the movement back to full potential.”

Percival sighs, at least it wasn’t a severe injure but it was still bittersweet. He wasn’t going to die, right now. But he would get better and then get sent back to the war, where it was likely that he could die. “How long do you think I’ll be here?”

Newt pauses for a moment and Percival was almost sure he could see a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks, “I’m not sure.” He admits, “I’ll have to talk to Tina, she's a doctor. She’ll know better how long this should take. I feel I should warn you, you’re my first patient, I’m more of a trainee really…If you’re not comfortable with that I’m sure they will assign you someone else.”

Percival waves a tired hand toward him and shakes his head, “That doesn’t bother me. I’m sure you’re fine.” He gives the boy a small smile.

Newt smiles back, clearly pleased that Percival hadn’t accepted the offer to have someone else care for him. “You should get some rest. You’re going to need a lot of sleep while you recover.” He stands from his chair and fusses with Percivals sheets for a moment before tucking him in. “I’ll be in to check on you in the morning. Try and rest.”

Percival watches as the boy walks away with a shy smile and couldn’t help the smile that set on his lips. The boy seemed sweet and innocent, that was something Percival hadn’t witnessed in a long time and it made for a nice change. He knew he was going to like being looked after by Newt, the boy came across shy but he knew he would get him talking before long.

 

~~~~

 

Newt didn’t feel tired and was pleased to find Tina sat up at one of the small dining tables in the kitchen scribbling on a sheet of paper in front of her.

“Still awake?” He asks, announcing his entrance as he heads to the sink to get himself a glass of water.

“Just finishing up the records for each patient. I just have a few details to add on to Percivals and then they’re all up to date.” She informs him, not looking up from her writing as she replies.

“Oh, about him,” Newt begins as he takes a sip from his glass and takes a seat opposite her, “He just woke up. I gave him some water and introduced myself, I’ve left him to try and rest some more. He asked how long he should expect to be here.”

“Only a few months.” Tina finishes off her last paragraph and stacks her papers together, tapping them against the table to level them out before sliding them into the grey folder beside her, “Permitting everything is okay of course. But I should imagine four, five months. To make sure he can use his arm efficiently before he goes back to fight again.”

Newt nods his head, “Okay, I’ll let him know in the morning.”

“Oh, I’ve set out your own shelf.” Tina explains to him, “It’s on the left when you go into the medical room, it already has all of the medicine Percival will need on it along with gauze and tape.” the woman smiles at him.

Newt was thankful for this. It would make looking after Percival just that bit much easier having everything all in one place.

“Newt, you need to get some sleep.” Tina tells him, her voice taking on a mothering tone, “You’ll end up waring yourself out and you’ll need your energy to look after Percival. Queenies already asleep, go join her.”

Newt nods in agreement even though he didn’t feel tired in the slightest. He bid Tina good night and left for the nurses sleeping quarters. His bed was wet up beside Queenies, a few personal belongings spread out on his desk in the corner, mostly books and a few old letters from his brother, he was still waiting for his next reply.

Queenie was already fast asleep in her bed so Newt noiselessly got changing into his night clothes and crawled into his own bed, blowing the candle out on the lap beside him, casting them into darkness. Newt was asleep the minutes his head hit the soft pillows.


	3. Chapter 3

The pain was almost unbearable but that didn’t stop Percival from trying to sit up in his bed. He wanted to see around him. He’d been awake for the last half hour and he was fed up of looking up at the cream ceiling. Percivals features scrunched in pain, letting out of huff of quick breath, his good arm wobbling at the effort of holding his weight.

“Woah woah, don’t do that!” Newts panicked voice rang though his ears, he hadn’t even noticed him approaching he’d been that invested in trying to move, “C’mon, lay back down, that’s it.” The boy helps him to lay back down, Percivals from was more from annoyance than it was from the pain, he’d nearly got it. He’d nearly been sat up and now this boy had come and foiled his progress.

“You need to lay down,” Newt tells him as he fluffs up his pillows behind his head, “Give your shoulder proper chance to heal. You’ll do it no favours straining it like that.”

Now it was day light Percival could see Newt properly. He’d been right in thinking his hair was a reddish colour, it shone a brilliant golden colour in the sunlight and his eyes were an angelic shade of viridian. His features appeared femininelike, almost ethereal and he really was quite alluring. The boy had a delicate touch, the way he laid Percival down, hand on the back of his shoulder to prevent further pain, the way he ever so gently slid the arm of his hospital gown down and unwrapped his dressing.

The further he undid the dressing the darker the colour became. The once cream bandage underneath was tinted with a flaky copper colour, dried blood sunk into the fabric from his wound.

“Is that okay?” Percival commented, noticing the wound bleed ever so slightly as Newt finished unwrapping it.

“It’s still a fresh wound,” Newt mentioned as he lifted a damp cloth to his shoulder and washed the skin of crimson colour, “It’ll take a few days to begin to heal over fully, I expect some blood for the first week.”

They had done their best to stitch Percivals wound up but it was an awkward position, not to mention if he didn’t start sitting still he’d be in recovery for a lot longer than anticipated.

Percival watched as Newt cleaned his wound, his eyes squinted in concentration and his tongue resting delicately between his teeth. Newt dried the skin and applied a white cream around the affected area and then began wrapping him up again. Percival didn’t feel any pain like he’d expected, but of course Newt was extra careful with him.

“There, all sorted now,” Newt chimes as he places the used bandages into the waste bag beside his bed ready to be thrown out. “Is there anything else you need? Water? Food? More blankets?” Newt questioned with a kind smile.

“Well,” Percival thinks for a moment before replying, “Some company would be appreciated.” Percival chuckles softly, he didn’t expect the boy to stay, thinking he probably had a lot of other work to do and other patients to tend to. But to his surprise Newt beamed at him and took a seat in the hard looking chair beside him.

“Company. I can do that,” Newt places the waste bag back onto the floor and then crosses one leg over the other, resting his hands atop his knee, “Are you feeling okay this morning? Did you sleep well after I left last night?”  
“I’m feeling perfectly fine,” Percival verified, “And I slept…okay,” Percivals features contort into that of thoughtfulness, “No, actually, I didn’t,” He admits with a sigh, “I seem to be plagued with night terrors as of recently.”

Newts smile is sympathetic, his hands clasping and unclasping on his knees, “I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through,” Newt confessed, worrying his lower lip, “If ever you need to talk, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” He offers, the beginnings of a smile forming on his lips which he drops almost instantly, this wasn’t a conversation to smile for.

“I think talking would help actually.” Percival noted, maybe if he divulged his thoughts and feelings it would take a certain weight from his shoulders and help him to relax, help him to sleep.

“Well, then talk to me,” Newt lilted with a small encouraging simper, “Tell me what the war was like. What the fighting was like. Tell me of your friends you’ve made, of the talks and fears you shared with them. I want to hear it all.” Newt pulled his wooden chair closer to the bed so that Percival wouldn’t have to speak up and placed his elbow on the bed, resting his head on his hand and giving Percival his undivided attention.

Percival rests his head back against the pillow, averting his eyes up to the ceiling once more as he lost himself in thought. Where to start? Of everything that’s happened to him where is the best place to begin his story? Well, like every story Percival thought he should start right at the beginning.

“I received my letter to join the war about four months in,” Percival begins, “I was excited. I don’t have much for me back home. No family, no friends really, nothing to fear leaving behind. I had my stuff packed already, had done since I first applied, I was fit and healthy so I knew I’d get accepted. The travelling there seemed to happen all too fast. One minute I was home the next I was dressed in my uniform and being handed my first gun. I was placed into a small group, two hundred of us, two hundred and fifty maybe but no more.”

Percival paused, lost in a memory and Newt waited patiently to see if he would continue, when it seemed unlikely he’d continue Newt prompted him on, “What was your group like? Was there many battles?”

Percival seemed to jump slightly at Newts voice, like he was caught in a flashback and had forgotten Newt was there completely, “Oh, yes the group was good. I didn’t befriend many of them. My thought process was that we are in a war, some of the men, maybe even myself were going to die. I didn’t want to go making a bunch of friends that I’d have to watch die. But of course I was close to a couple people. John Williams. He was one of the first to go. Shot in the stomach during our first battle. We lost a lot of men that day. Then Allister Miller. He was shot multiple times right in front of me,” Percival shook his head with a long sigh.

“I still picture that every night,” He admits, “The way his body shook with the force of the hits, almost like he was being electrocuted. Then he fell to the floor hard and he was still alive, moaning in pain but I didn’t have time to stop. I knew he was good as dead and if I’d stayed with him I would of been too. I apologised and left him. Just left him alone. Scared.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Newt felt the need to interject, “There was nothing you could of done. It wasn’t worth putting yourself in danger.”

Percival gives a forlorn smile, “I know. But still, it’s hard to think about. I’d hate to dye alone like that. He’s the only one I witnessed up close, the rest I either found or watched from afar. Michael and Daniel Jones.” Percival furrows his brows at the mention of the names, “My friends sons. One of them, Michael, stepped on a mine, blew him to pieces and threw Daniel across the land. Knew he was dead the minute he hit the floor but, he was so close. The thing that gets me most about this, I knew I couldn’t just leave him there. He was my friends son, if it was the other way round…He would of done it. I don’t know what came through me but I climbed from my hiding spot and crawled to him. He was dead as I thought, but I grabbed him and dragged him back. Thing is, I’m sure they could see me. The enemy that is, they would of been able to see. But they didn’t shoot. Why is that?”

Newt sits up a little considering the question, “I really don’t know. Maybe they put themselves in your shoes. You were taking a fallen comrade back to his friends, to his family. Maybe they knew that pain and let you continue.”

Percival things for a moment, finally looking over to Newt for the first time during his talking, “Maybe,” Percival ponders, “I guess we’ll never know for sure. I’ve only been fighting for six months. It’s not a long time but it feels like an eternity. I never thought I’d feel like this. I thought, I have nothing to miss. Nothing to long for. But I still do. I long for home, for the comfort of my bed, for the familiarity of the streets and buildings back home. I miss the weather. I miss the noise of the streets rather than the eerie quiet of the day and the loud explosions of the night. I miss the way things were.”

Newt felt himself reaching out, placing a hand on Percivals arm and giving it a sympathetic squeeze, “The war will end,” He promised, “It will end. We will get to go back home. Things will begin to get back to normal. You will still know the horrors of war but you can work to get past them. Things will be okay again.”

“We might not all go home…” Percival didn’t specifically state that he might go back to the war and die within a day of being back, but Newt knew what he meant. He didn’t want to think of that. He’d only known Percival for a little over a day now but the thought of the man in front of him dying pained him.

“Try and rest,” Newt mumbles, standing from his chair and brushing Percivals hair back, “You look awfully tired.” Newt offers a smile, giving his arm one last squeeze before he strolls away.

Percival sighs longingly as he lays his head back, settling down into the comforts of his blankets. He was awfully tired. Hopefully now he could sleep with less wakes in the night.

 

~~~~

 

Walking through the wards Newt could see Amelia and Grace working away but there was no sign of Queenie. He soon found the blonde in the lunch room. Clutching a sheet of paper tight in her hands, for a second Newt feared bad news but that fear was dampened down the he saw the smile on her lips.

“Jacob?” Newt asks, nodding to the letter as he takes a seat opposite the two sisters.

Queenie nods her head with ebullience, “They got sent into battle five days ago but he’s okay! He got back to the camp with only a few cuts and bruises he says. Oh I’m so happy to hear he’s okay. You get worried, y’know? When you don’t hear for a while.” Her smile is merry as she talks of her husband, “I do miss him ever so but I’m inordinately proud of him. I just cant wait for this wretched war to be over, to be able to hold him in my arms again.”

“The war can’t go on forever Queenie,” Tina reassures her, slinking an arm around her sisters shoulders, “I’m sure he’s just as excited to see you again. Just keep marking off the days and it’ll soon come around.”

Queenie nods her head in agreement, “I know Teen, I just got to be patient. I’m going to go write a reply, excuse me.” Queenie pushes back from the table and hurries off presumably to her bed to get her paper to write.

Newt wanted to ask if Tina had anyone off in the war but thought that’d be terribly intrusive to decided against it. Instead he offered her a small smile and then rested his head against his hands with a low sigh.

“Everything okay, Newt?” Tina asked, lifting her glass of water to her lips to sip down the cool liquid, waiting on a reply.

Newt nods his head, another smile reaching his lips, “Yes. Everything’s fine, just tired.”

Tina nods and excuses herself, strolling off to the doctors quarters to soft through her paperwork. Newt was finally left alone. His physical state one to match his mental one. He felt strikingly lonely. He hadn’t heard from Theseus on over a month now, he was worried but not surprised. His brother was a high ranking officer and wouldn’t have time to write a lot, but some news would definitely be nice.

Part of him even wished he had a lover off somewhere to await news from. Something to look forward to. Someone to give his heart to. He found his thoughts wondering off to something Percival had said. He didn’t have anyone back home to miss. So he didn’t have any family nor did he have a lover waiting for his return. This comforted Newt somewhat. Not because someone else shared his loneliness, he wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. But because he wasn’t the only one in his situation. He wasn’t the only one with no family, with no lover. And that helped to make him feel the slightest bit less lonely.


End file.
